Requiem for the Jolly Roger
by Alidisney
Summary: In hopes of luring Pan, Captain Hook orders his crew to capture Wendy Darling. He does not expect them to hand over a full-grown woman, nor does he anticipate the Darling girl to dust out the corners of his dormant heart. Hook/Wendy pairing. Smut in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters belong to the beloved J.M. Barrie.**

 **Chapter 1**

Wendy peered out the gossamer curtains, her hooded eyes as gray and stormy as the London sky. People always told her it was good luck to have rain on your wedding day, but Wendy considered the weather as nothing but reflective of her mood.

From the outside looking in, one would see a nervous bride-to-be staring out her childhood window, her fists clutching the ivory fabric from the anxiety of the next hour, or perhaps from being apprehensive of her wedding night. She did not cry, nor did she shake. She had done enough of the during the lonely nights of the months leading up to this very moment—there was no use for tears now.

It wasn't that Jacob Dillinger was a bad man: in fact, compared to the other suitors Mr. and Mrs. Darling had scrounged up for her, Jacob was rather preferable. He had kind, brown eyes and a steady job as an accountant, like her father. Though his hair was thinning at the crown, and he often belched at the dinner table, Wendy knew she would always have supper on the table and a level-headed husband to kiss her goodnight. Her future should have been one she looked forward to.

If only she wasn't aware of how things could be.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 _One year earlier._

"Happy birthday, darling."

Wendy effortlessly blew out the twenty candles in front of her. Her brothers and parents clapped animatedly around her at the dining room table, while Liza stoically stood her post by the kitchen door. Nana slept at Michael's feet.

"So Wendy, when are you considered an old maid this day and age, eh?" John jeeringly elbowed her side. He was close to seventeen and becoming more and more taunting.

"Now John…" Mrs. Darling began to scold.

Wendy laughed. "Oh, Mother, it's quite all right. I'm not old enough to find that type of mockery upsetting just yet."

"Wendy," Michael said, his eyes never leaving the vanilla-frosted cake, "are you planning on cutting into that anytime soon, or do I have to be rude and serve myself before the birthday girl?"

Wendy's melodic laugh filled the room once more. She enjoyed Michael's childish musings; at thirteen, he was beginning to lose the baby fat around his cheeks, and his voice was deepening. Any glimpse of him still being the baby of the family brought Wendy comfort, especially as she was reminded of how grown up she was herself.

Liza made her way to the table, her gruff niceties lost on the happy family around her. She cut five pieces of cake, serving the first to Wendy, who in turn handed hers to Michael.

"Wendy, dear, it's your birthday! Do have the first piece," Mrs. Darling urged.

But it was too late: the cake was gone before Mrs. Darling even finished her sentence. The whole room laughed, causing Nana to wake. Her sudden howl even led Eliza to let a chuckle escape.

As the group finished off their cake, the conversation began to lull. Wendy saw her father watching her from the other side of the table, and she knew what was inevitably to come.

"Now, Wendy, your mother and I have been meaning to discuss some things with you. Liza, boys, may we have a moment alone with Wendy, if you please?" Liza immediately huffed out of the room, her stocky figure retreating toward the kitchen.

"Good luck, dear sister," John patted Wendy gently on the shoulder, "I hardly knew thee."

"Sorry about your luck, Wendy. You know, being a girl and all," Michael leaned over to receive a light kiss on the cheek from his beloved older sister, his strawberry hair flopping in front of his eyes. Wendy's heart sunk as she noticed almost no freckles dusted his nose any longer.

Michael and John slowly ascended the stairs, stealing pitied glances backward at their favorite sister. How Wendy wished she could be going with them, her only worry about boarding school in the fall. She reluctantly turned toward her parents' smiling faces. She cut to the chase.

"Who is it this time?" Wendy asked as patiently as she could.

Her father's eyebrows rose. "What makes you so sure we're discussing the matter of suitors, my dear?"

"Father," Wendy said flatly, "I am now twenty years old. You've been discussing nothing with me but suitors for the past two years. Why should I assume this is going to be about anything else?"

Dr. Darling coughed, smoothing down his shirt front. "Well then, I presume there's no point in beating around the bush, now is there?"

"No."

"He's a very nice man, Wendy, honestly. Much better than the last fellow your _father_ thought was such a catch." Mrs. Darling narrowed her eyes at her husband.

"Edward was quite the _catch_ indeed!" Mr. Darling suddenly became very interested in scratching his dark moustache. "One of London's finest lawyers, in fact!"

"He collected _insects_ , George. Jars of them!" Mrs. Darling shook her head. "Could you imagine, our Wendy, living in a house filled with—"

"We get the picture, Mother! Please, I don't mean to be rude, but may we get on with it?"

"John Dillinger," Mr. Darling said proudly. "Works in my wing in the accounting department. Quiet, bright young man. He just turned six and twenty not too long ago."

"He's very kind, Wendy. We've talked with him several times at you father's office parties. Not to mention, he finds you to be rather stunning."

Wendy stared at her hands in her lap. She was well aware that, whether or not she was willing, she would have to meet the young man sooner or later. Mustering up all the energy she could, she lifted her gray eyes to her eager parents and smiled.

"All right then, let us have him for dinner. Is he able to come sometime this week?"


	3. Chapter 3

***Note: I previously mentioned Wendy's suitor as "John Dillinger." I actually meant "Jacob Dillinger."**

 **Chapter 3**

Jacob Dillinger, accountant, age six and twenty, was an average man. The muddy brown of his eyes matched the shade of his hair almost exactly, and his shirt was always just a smidgen untucked. Though he was young, one noticed the hair at the crown of his head was thinning, though the hair on his eyebrows more than made up for it. He spoke with his mouth full and stumbled over his speech, but he was a caring man, which meant to Wendy that he was already ten steps ahead than any other suitor she had met before.

"Wendy," Jacob said through a mouth of roast turkey, "I heard you attended North London Collegiate School a few years back. It's very impressive, really."

"Thank you, Jacob. I heard your sister is planning on doing the same?" The appearance of Wendy's dimples caused Jacob to nearly fall off his chair.

"Y-yes. That is an aspiration of hers, yes." Jacob avoided eye contact with the woman. He didn't want to be rude, but he could by no means put together a logical sentence while looking right at the beauty in front of him. "Though my parents do tell her it's a waste of time, a woman going to school and all."

Wendy pursed her lips. "Yes, that does continue to be the opinion of society. I hope that changes someday."

"I'm sure it will, dear," Mrs. Darling spoke softly. "Mr. Dillinger, sir, are you enjoying your meal?"

"Oh yes! Yes, Miss Liza does make a smashing roast turkey and mashed potatoes," he turned to the maid. "Thank you, ma'am, truly."

"Hrmph," Eliza nodded.

The clock chimed eight o'clock.

"Dear me! Eight o'clock already? I must give you leave, Darling family. My apologies for losing track of time." Jacob scrambled out of his chair, his napkin still hanging out of the waist of his trousers.

"No need to rush, Dillinger! You're always welcome in the Darling household," Mr. Darling words were sincere.

"Why, thank you, George, but really, I must be getting home now."

"Very well, then. Wendy, dear, will you be so kind as to show Mr. Dillinger out?"

Wendy rose without hesitation and accompanied Jacob Dillinger to the front door.

Alone in the front parlor, Wendy turned to her guest.

"Thank you, Mr. Dillinger, for joining us tonight. It was a pleasure having you dine with us."

"Please, call me Jacob," he answered breathlessly. He could focus on nothing but how the moonlight shining through the windows bounced off Wendy's golden locks.

"Jacob," Wendy smiled.

Jacob took Wendy's hand, brushing a light kiss on the back. The two youths exchanged goodbyes, and Jacob Dillinger nearly skipped all the way home, his napkin still hanging at his waist.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 _Later that evening._

Following Jacob's leave, Wendy had asked special permission to sleep in her childhood nursery that night. Though the Darling couple thought the request strange, the pair was so thrilled about their recent dinner guest that they had no qualms. So Wendy got her wish: Liza had swept out the dusty corners, changed the moth-eaten sheets in Wendy's old bed, and got the place looking as if the Darling children had never left. Wendy sat not under her freshly-washed red comforter, but at the nursery window.

Wendy was comfortable. Fewer things screamed nostalgia more so than this very spot, gazing out at the quiet London street. She exhaled.

Unlatching the window proved to be a challenge. Though Liza had scrubbed everything clean, the latch was still rusted shut. After a few tries, as well as a small cut on her left pointer finger, the old window flung open—hinges squeaking—causing flakes of rust to drift off into the night sky. Wendy's eyes followed the flakes, wishing she could float away with them. It reminded her of her days of flying.

The interesting thing about flying was that it wasn't really like flying at all—not in the traditional sense, at least. From what she remembered, it was more as if you were swimming in the sky, pushing your way through the air. Wendy had always assumed pixie dust caused this, for she was sure birds most certainly didn't swim in the air.

A gentle breeze caressed Wendy's golden locks. She closed her eyes, inhaling the scent of summer's night. Her stomach ached for the past.

She had honestly enjoyed Jacob's company: he was a gentle, caring man, which was very refreshing for a woman of her age. However, the idea of having to choose a life partner was just another reminder that she was utterly and truly grown up. What she would give to have one last flight. One last time to feel the carelessness of youth, the utter joy of not having a worry in the world.

"Peter," she murmured, "if you can hear me, please, _please_ give me one last chance. I'd do anything to fly again."

She waited, her eyes closed.

The night was perfectly still, save the gentle draft rustling the leaves of the solitary tree in the small front yard of the Darling home. The moon shone so brightly, Wendy could see the illumination through her closed lids. It was a few moments before she laughed.

"Dear God," she said to herself, "I've gone mad!"

Wendy rose from her cherished spot at the window, and huffed off to bed. _What a load of poppycock,_ she thought, _to think that the one and only Peter Pan would come after me, a lonely old maid, crying and begging for child's play. He'd sooner take Hook flying than a washed up Wendy._ She convinced herself that her nonsensical dreaming was over, and she was still indeed of sound mind. Which one might believe this to be true, if not for one thing:

She left the window open.


	5. Chapter 5

p class="MsoNormal"strong style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"span style="text-decoration: underline;"Chapter 5/span/strong/p  
p class="MsoNormal"em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"The London air blew Wendy's hair from her face as they flew through downtown. Big Ben was up ahead. The boy in front of her looked over his shoulder, giving her a mischievous grin. /em/p  
p class="MsoNormal"em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;""What do you say, Wendy?" She could hear him perfectly clearly, despite the fact the two were suspended in air. "For old time's sake?"/em/p  
p class="MsoNormal"em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"Wendy smiled in response. She grabbed the boy's calloused hand, and they flew toward the clock tower./em/p  
p class="MsoNormal"A chill breeze interrupted Wendy's dreaming. em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"The window, /emshe thought, em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"how careless of me. /emShe reluctantly pushed her warm comforter aside, searching for her slippers at the foot of the bed. Her eyesight was still hazy from sleep./p  
p class="MsoNormal"Wendy rubbed her arms. Though it was June, her thin, white nightdress wasn't cut out for the nippy evening air. Gooseflesh rose on her skin as she neared the window. Just as she was about to reach for the open panes, something in her peripheral vision caught her eye. em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"Was that a boot?/em/p  
p class="MsoNormal"Wendy shook her head. em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"Surely not. A part of me must still be dreaming./em/p  
p class="MsoNormal"Without hesitation, she reached to close the window. Just then, a strong arm grabbed her left wrist, yanking her from the house and into the night sky. Preparing for the two-story drop, Wendy closed her eyes and braced for impact. She was surprised to find her feet come into contact with hardwood./p  
p class="MsoNormal"She screamed to no avail. A rough, smelly hand covered her mouth as cloth simultaneously blackened her vision. A thick arm snaked around her waist, pulling her against a large form./p  
p class="MsoNormal""Ah, Miss Wendy. Not such a little tyke anymore, eh?" the figure chuckled, the voice almost familiar. "The cap'n is in for a pleasant surprise when he wakes."/p  
p class="MsoNormal"em style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"Captain?/em/p  
p class="MsoNormal"The form relieved her mouth from his hand. Just as Wendy began to scream, she choked on a sickly sweet liquid being forced down her throat. She immediately felt dizzy./p  
p class="MsoNormal""There, there, Miss," a gentler voice cooed. An Irish brogue she most certainly remembered. "We're not here to hurt you, now. All will be well soon enough."/p  
p class="MsoNormal"Wendy coughed, the taste of the intoxicating syrup staining her lips. Her legs began to buckle underneath her. Her mouth barely moved as she called out to the voice:/p  
p class="MsoNormal""Mr. Smee?"/p  
p class="MsoNormal"Her world went dark./p 


End file.
